He tongued at his cheek as heavy footsteps echoed through the empty practice room that Ezra couldn’t stop himself from seeing as a prison cell at this point. His eyes locked on the floor, shame and guilt began to weigh on the back of his neck, making him bow his head and swallow thickly. He hadn’t done anything wrong to feel this way. So strongly does he feel the ache of guilt in his bones for missing a beat. He should be better, he should be stronger, he should be sharper.
“You could do better,” Roan’s voice affirmed the ones in his head. Ezra shuts his eyes, but nods silently. The weight on the back of his neck suddenly got heavier. It’s a hand, grabbing at him like he’s a pup being lifted by his mother. He flinches with a sharp breath, balling his sweaty hands into fists as the grip gets tighter, pushing him down until he’s bent at a 90-degree angle.
“Do you even try anymore, Ezra? Or are you too comfortable being the least liked member in the group, huh? You like that no one likes you enough to keep you here but me? Because that’s what it seems like.” Roan shakes him by the back of his neck like a dog. Ezra hasn’t opened his eyes in what feels like hours, forcing images of his favorite memory to appear behind his eyelids instead of darkness.
He was seven. A year before he was adopted. He was in Florida and with his mother on the beach. She was laughing because Ezra said he wanted to build a sand castle for them to live in. He was happy. The sun was bright and shining.
“I’m trying,” Ezra tried to defend himself. He always tried, but it was never good enough. It usually wasn’t.
“You’re not trying hard enough.” Then there's the shove that sends Ezra tumbling over and hitting the floor with his shoulder. The thud of his body hitting the ground echoes through the room, rattles his brain, but he barely makes a sound. Ezra opens his eyes at impact, blinking hard once, twice, three times before he pushes himself up on his palms, looking up at Roan through his lashes before looking away. Holding eye contact makes him too anxious. He wasn’t always so anxious, but Roan wasn’t always so mean.
Ezra pushes himself up shakily, muscles aching from the hours of repeating the same move again, and again and again. He swears he’s doing the footwork right, he swears he hits the beat, but every time the music is cut off and he’s scolded by Roan in that hard and cold voice that’s drilled its way into his stomach, leaving it in constant knots.
“Do you want to be here?” Roan talks to Ezra like he’s a soldier. It pisses him off. They’re in a dance room, not a war zone. The younger rolls his eyes before he can stop himself, and before he can prepare himself, there’s a sharp crack across his face, sending his head jerking to the side and a burning searing into his skin. Ezra shuts his eyes again, curling his lips in to keep any sound from tumbling out, taking a deep breath through his nose before he lifts his head, shaking his dark hair out of his eyes. He can feel a wetness in them, but that doesn’t keep him from holding eye contact with Roan again.
“I’ve been here for five years,” Ezra finally replies, “I’m already here.”
He only says it to get a reaction. He always knows there will be a reaction.
Roan’s heavy hands shove into Ezra’s chest again, this time sending him stumbling a couple of steps back before he hits the ground. The pain is sharp and shoots up through his tailbone, causing him to hiss. His wrists take most of the impact, making them ache instantly. Ezra is always aching, but this ache makes his brain tingle. Something small and sensitive, but it was there. It felt like it lit something in him, made his heart pound harder against his ribs. He can’t get enough of it.
He thinks of his mother again. He hasn’t seen her in so long. He wonders what color her hair is now, if she still smiles the same, if she smiles at all.
Ezra is in wrist braces for the next practice. Roan isn’t in the room this time, it’s just the guys, but he still feels like it’s only him in the room, besides when he’s looking in the mirror. He doesn’t look at himself even when he’s dancing; he’s watching the other boys. His eyes mainly lock on Hyun, watching how effortlessly he moves, how strong his arms look when they go up, how his brown hair sticks to his forehead. He’s the perfect idol, with such a pretty face and a strong body. Ezra feels hungry when he looks at Hyun, but he doesn’t know what. He wants to consume him, to be him, to taste him; he wants every inch of him, but he can’t grasp how or why.
“Hey,” Hyun shouts, dragging Ezra back into the reality he has found himself caged in. The leader raises his dark brows at the other, making Ezra look off to the side, crossing his arms over his chest. “Focus. You missed your mark, Hyunbin.”
Ezra hates his Korean name. It reminds him of his uncle. He nods, though, taking his sharp words and letting them burrow into the wrinkles of his brain. He can feel the other boys staring at him, but he doesn’t look at them; he doesn’t even look up from the ground. They’re all staring at him, some coldly and some with empathy. It’s usual soft eyes from TingTing and Grayson, and the usual daggers from Jacob and Hajin. There’s a gentle tap on his bicep. The feeling of longer nails gives it away that it’s TingTing. He lifts his head, having to tilt it up slightly to make eye contact with the older.
For someone so dainty, TingTing was tall as fuck.
“You look more brooding than usual,” TingTing teases which gets a smile out of Ezra, his eyes looking off to the side, feeling a knot form in his gut from the limited eye contact already. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, Tee.” It’s a scripted response, one that Ezra has been reciting since he was a little boy. He adds a small smile that doesn’t fool TingTing by the sad smile he gives Ezra. He rubs his bicep, making the other look back at him with a look that says, ‘Don’t do this to me.’ But in all fairness, Ezra usually has that pathetic look on his face.
“Listen, we’re going out after practice–”
“You don’t have to invite me.”
“I want to!” TingTing argues with a shrill to his voice, “We haven’t been out together in forever!”
“Because I threw up at the pregame, Ting.” Ezra whines, cheeks already burning at the memory. He didn’t even get to the club before throwing up whatever soju abomination Grayson made him in the dorm. Ezra would learn they would go on to have a great night, while Ezra would be stuck at the dorm, curled up in his bed, playing League of Legends until dawn.
Utterly humiliating. He didn’t talk to the guys for three days.
TingTing’s lips curl in to not giggle at the memory. He shrugs like it was nothing.
“Okay? So! That’s the past, and I want you to come out tonight. I’m going, Gray is going, Hyun is going–”
“Hyun is going?” Ezra asks in shock, thick brows shooting up. TingTing nods with an excited hum.
“I know, right? He never goes out, and that’s why you need to! This will never happen again!” He’s so dramatic, Ezra thinks with an amused smile as he stares at TingTing’s face, who is consumed with an excited smile. His large hands pressed together in a prayer, and Ezra can finally see that they’re painted a pretty blue and silver, each nail having a different design or pattern. He wonders if he did them himself. TingTing is creative like that.
“And some of the tacky girls are coming! A lot of us will be there. Come onnn, Ezra! I even think Sena will be there!”
“Sena is always out on the weekends,” Ezra scoffs with an eyeroll at her name. TingTing sucks air between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, causing a clicking noise as he gives Ezra a playful shove.
“Just agree to go out already. You look miserable and need some fun. I’m helping you here.” His hands are on his shoulders now, leaning down slightly with a smirk on his lips because he can see that Ezra has no resolve left and a small smile is growing even as he shakes his head. Ezra throws his hands up like he lost a match, but the smile on his face looks victorious.
“Fine! Sure! What the hell! Just don’t let Grayson make the drinks, and I’m in.” TingTing squeals and claps his hands together, giving a cute bounce on his toes before turning towards the direction Grayson was in.
“Did you hear that, Gray? I got Ezra to leave the house!”
Ezra hangs his head, slapping a hand over his eyes with a low groan.
—
Ezra is stone cold sober.
They’re in a club in Gangnam, a city he’s only been to get his nose done when he was about to debut, and the music is loud. It’s so loud that if he didn’t pop a Tylenol before leaving the house, he would be sure it would give him a migraine.
Everyone is having fun at least, he thinks as he looks around. It’s not well lit by any means, but it’s not as dark as the other clubs they had been to. He can actually make out facial details as he watches Hyun talk to Geni, a warm smile on his sharp features, Ezra swears he’s never seen the man wear before. Geni is smiling up at Hyun like he’s telling her he’s giving her a billion dollars.
Geni is a beautiful girl, he thinks as his eyes rake over her figure. She’s wearing a simple black crop top and jeans that are too big for her. They hang on her hips like it's nothing, the bands of her black underwear hugging her hips tightly, purposefully put on display. It makes Ezra feel like his outfit could’ve been cooler. He just put on a band t-shirt and jeans that kinda looked similar to the ones Geni was wearing, dark acid-washed and baggy, but his jeans actually fit him, and his underwear wasn’t showing. Should it be? That thought alone tells him that he’s overthinking, but what else is there for him to do?
He takes a sip of his Diet Coke, looking away from the couple to maybe spot another one of his friends as he leans on the table in front of him. He catches TingTing dancing with Jisung, which causes Ezra to blink twice to make sure he is seeing the man right. It was, in fact, Jisung from DeepDive. Damn, he thinks, watching as the elder holds onto TingTing’s hips, guiding them to the beat while his chin rests on the boy’s shoulder. TingTing looks so happy, obviously tipsy, never missing a beat while his hand rests atop Jisung’s.
Ezra sighs through his nose, looking around again to see if he sees anyone else he knows. He catches Grayson talking to a man who’s shorter than him, beaming and laughing before taking a sip of his electric blue drink. It’s an AMF. Grayson loves AMFs. He looks comfortable and like he’s having fun, so Ezra looks away, scanning through the sea of people once again.
“Is that diet?” He hears a female’s voice shout over the music. Ezra jumps, snapping his head to the side to see who snuck up on him. It’s Yoomi. He can tell instantly by how round her eyes are and the light shade of brown hair. Her usually big eyes looked glazed over, eyelids heavy; it was clear she was drunk. He wonders how long she’s been here. The girls were already in the club by the time they got there at midnight.
“Yeah. It’s Coke,” Ezra answers, leaning down so she can hear him. She’s looking up at him expectantly, but he doesn’t catch it at first, so he just blinks down at her. Yoomi sighs, aggressively nodding towards his drink.
“Can I have a sip?” She seems annoyed by him, but she moves closer to him. Ezra looks at his silver Diet Coke can, then up at Yoomi. The thought of sharing a can kind of makes him nauseous, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He just holds the can out for her to take, accepting that it’s Yoomi’s Diet Coke now, and he should get a water from somewhere. The thought of going to the GS25 pops in his head, and he accepts it; of course, he does; he doesn’t want to be in the club past two in the morning, and it’s already nearing that time.
“You can keep it. I’m gonna head out.” He doesn’t know why he’s telling Yoomi this instead of his friends, but he figures she’ll relay the message. Instead, she grabs his arm before he can take a step, looking up at him curiously.
“Where are you going? I want to come.” Now Ezra is the one confused, knitting his brows and looking around to try and see if anyone was listening to them just so he can have witnesses to a girl as pretty as Yoomi wanting to leave the club with him.
“I’m-Uh-I’m going to the GS.”
“Let’s go,” She grabs his wrist, beginning to pull him towards the exit with no question. It jars Ezra, who looks around the club, hoping to make eye contact with his friends or hers, but they’re all too lost in their own worlds.
“Shouldn’t we tell Geni where you’re–”
“She’s too busy swapping spit with your boyfriend. I’ll text her.” Yoomi sounds mad when Geni is mentioned, so he decides to shut up, but he has to ponder what she meant by calling Hyun his boyfriend.
On their walk to the GS, it’s clear Yoomi is drunk. So drunk that he knows if she were asked to walk in a straight line, she’d fall right on her ass. He has an arm around her waist to keep her up and walking in the right direction, but he can’t help but love the warmth her skin radiates in such cold weather.
“Did you bring a jacket?” He asks, leading her towards one of the chairs outside the GS, sitting her down as carefully as he can, despite her going limp and wanting to flop down in the chair. She would’ve sent it toppling over if Ezra didn’t brace her. Yoomi shakes her head, grabbing onto his shirt when he tries to move away from her.
“I don’t want you to go.” Her words are so slurred he barely catches what she’s saying, making his brows knit and lean in to hear her better. Yoomi leans in with puckered lips, causing Ezra to snap back, dodging her by a second, eyes wide in shock, before he shakes his head.
“I’m not leaving. Just–” He gives a hard tug away to pull away just enough to tug his jacket off, slinging it over her shoulders. “You’re cold, Yoomi. Do you want something warm to drink? I can get you, like, a coffee or something?” The dress she’s wearing is green and strapless. She’s wearing tights, but the length of the dress leaves little to the imagination. Ezra thinks she looks good; she’s a stunning girl. Still, watching her struggle to sit up properly leaves a rock in his throat. He feels like he shouldn’t be seeing this. He almost feels like a creep just for looking at her right now, but she wanted to go with him, right? It’s not like he’s doing anything wrong. He even gave her his jacket. He’s taking care of her.
The coffee is cheap enough that Ezra can buy a strawberry milk to sweeten it. He knows she likes strawberries. She’s always drinking one whenever he passes her in the morning.
Yoomi takes the cardboard coffee cup when Ezra holds it out to her, taking a sip and instantly making a disgusted face. Without a word, he holds out the strawberry milk, and she lights up. She damn near tosses the coffee away, no regard for it being filled with liquid, causing a spike of anxiety to shoot through him, watching as the cup dances in a circle before balancing out and standing right as streams of dark liquid slide down the side.
“I love strawberries!” She looks so cute, Ezra thinks, smiling down at her as she looks up at him, holding the small cardboard box in two of her hands. He reaches out to pat her head, feeling a lurch in his heart when he feels how soft her hair is beneath his palm. She hums cutely at him, reaching one hand out to hold onto his thigh. A warmth spreads through his chest, making him swallow and look at her forehead to avoid her big, expectant eyes.
It’s obvious, isn’t it?
Ezra Chwe is a virgin. A big twenty-three-year-old virgin. He’s only ever kissed a girl, and that was years ago when he was a trainee. She kissed him, and he just went with it. He’s never actually had the guts to kiss a girl before, let alone make an actual move on one, but looking at Yoomi, who smiles at him with such want and desire in her big, round eyes, he finally feels it: the want, the courage, to have the guts.
He leans down, catching her lips in a sudden kiss. He presses his lips hard against hers, hearing a squeak from the back of her throat when he leans in more. That makes Ezra pull back as suddenly as he leaned in, looking at her with worry, opening his mouth to apologize, but Yoomi grabs his face, pulling him back in for another hard kiss against her smiling lips. He tries not to, but he smiles as well, feeling giddy at the fact that he’s kissing someone. Yoomi. He’s smiling because he’s kissing Yoomi. He pulls back just to lean in again, pecking her lips once, twice, three times like he remembers seeing in a show he watched with his mom when he was younger and living in the motel. It makes both of them smile. She giggles up at him, arching her back to tip her head up more and rub the tip of her nose against his.
Ezra gets them a motel for five hours. That’s enough time, right? It’ll be nine in the morning by the time they have to leave. That’s more than enough time to do whatever people do in motels after going to the club. He assumes they’ll have sex, and he believes he’ll suck at it, but he’s heard that practice makes perfect with stuff like that.
“Oh my god,” Yoomi muses when she staggers into the room, detaching herself from under Ezra’s arm towards a pathetic little couch to the side of the room. “This is just like the one in his office!”
Ezra chuckles at that, running a hand through his chocolate brown hair. She’s been talking the entire walk here, which wasn’t long, but he knows more about Yoomi than he ever thought he would. She hates her dad, her favorite color is green, she loves to dance, she wishes she had a body like Geni, and thinks the Chainsaw Man movie was a waste of time. It was a lot to take in; most Ezra doesn’t understand yet, but he took it in and kept it in his brain for later.
“Whose office?” He asks, still in the entrance of the room, untying his sneakers.
“Roan’s! I used to always be in his office, silly!” She says it as if he should know already, but there’s a big beaming smile on her face, and she turns around in front of the couch to watch Ezra stand up and kick his shoes off.
Ezra doesn’t like to assume. He doesn’t like to gossip, but there’s been whispers—There’s always whispers in the Mydol building, but there’s been a lot of whispers about Roan and Yoomi. Some girls say she fucked him for a spot in both groups she’s been in, while guys have said she’s easy to turn out because of Roan. He doesn’t like most of what he’s heard about Yoomi. True or not, the whispers leave a sour taste in his mouth. She’s too kind, too weird to be what others say she is when they talk about her and Roan, he thinks as he watches her sit on the two-seater black leather couch, bouncing on it with another giggle.
“Oh yeah?” Ezra chuckles, stepping into the room and walking over to Yoomi to stand in front of her. He’s hoping there’s a slight smile on his face, ready to be humored. “What would you do in there? I hate Roan’s office.”
Yoomi falters at that, tilting her head with a slowly dropping smile.
“You go to his office?”
Ezra feels like he’s said something he shouldn’t have. His body stiffens for a moment, quickly making himself relax not to alert Yoomi, but it’s not like she’s in a state to pick up on body language.
“Yeah. He doesn’t really like me.”
“Oh, really?” Her brows shoot up, and her head tilts. He nods.
“I’m usually only in there to get yelled at. He thinks I’m a bad dancer…I don’t know. He’s never liked me. ‘Said I’m only in the lineup because Jihan made it, and if he made ISSAYAH I wouldn’t have even been considered.”
Yoomi listens to Ezta spill his guts, looking perplexed for a moment, then she looks down at the couch, shrugging her bony shoulders.
“We don’t do that in his office,” She tells him, going a bit stiff. “I sit on his lap. We talk.”
Ezra suddenly feels cold and uncomfortable. He looks off to the side, biting the inside of his lip, wishing he were as drunk as Yoomi. He suddenly remembers she’s drunk and he’s not. He reaches out, placing his hand on her cheek and gently pushing her aside. She lets him, turning back to look up at him with parted lips. There’s an evident shift in the room, in her eyes, which makes Ezra take a deep breath.
"Yeah," Ezra whispers, "There's…rumors." Why not be honest with her? They had gotten this far. The shift on Yoomi's face tells him otherwise. He swallows, looking around the room and running his hands through his pockets, contemplating whether to sit on the couch or the edge of the bed. He can't keep standing there like an idiot, he thinks, especially with how Yoomi stares at him expectantly.
"What rumors?" She finally speaks. He finally decides to sit next to her and instantly regrets it. The fit is tight. Their knees are bumping, and their legs are pressed against each other. He hopes he doesn't come off like a creep. He wishes he weren't such a loser and had a drink when he was in the club; experiencing this sobriety is the absolute worst. He looks at Yoomi with an innocent shrug of his shoulders.
"They say he creeps on you," He tells her bluntly, watching how her eyes grow wide and her lip twitches. That makes something warm burst in his chest at how his words impacted her. There was a power to that. She hung on his every word. It hit Ezra in that moment; he was in control. His dark eyes scan over Yoomi's body, taking in every detail. From the size of her breasts to the color of her nail polish. She's small, skinny, and no match for Ezra. She's too drunk to assert any kind of power, even if she wanted to. He feels a hunger start to burn along the outlines of his stomach, blinking slowly at her.
"He takes us out, you know? He hates my guts, but he's still my boss, so I have to do whatever he says. He takes us out to the same BBQ place, and they all get wasted. Everytime. I don't. I never want to be there, because he's insufferable. I hate him. But when he gets drunk—"
"He talks a lot," Yoomi finishes in a low voice. Ezra nods with a small laugh, turning away from her. He hopes it sustains that hunger broiling inside him.
"He talks too fucking much. When one of your songs started playing in the restaurant, you know the first thing he said?" He looks at her again, but he nearly shoots her a glare by mistake. Yoomi has tears in her eyes; they're crystal clear in the hotel lighting, but for once, Ezra is unmoved by tears. "He said: "I've never fucked anything as tight as Yoomi's throat. You guts know Yoomi? The autistic one with the tits?" and kept going on and on about how easy you are for him, but he's never really fucked you," Ezra pauses, hearing Yoomi sniffle beside him, but he doesn't even glance at her.
"Is that true?" He asks, moving his head in her direction, but not looking at her face. He doesn't want to look at her. It's easier to talk to her like this when she's just a voice and a body. "He's never fucked you?"
Yoomi doesn't answer. Sobs only leave her, and even then, they're quiet and muffled. Ezra waits for a moment before looking back at her face to see the tears pour down her full cheeks like waterfalls. Her makeup has been smudged, but now flakes of mascara rest on her lash line, her real skin appearing through the wet streaks that removed her foundation. A guilt takes over instantly, making him shut his eyes with a deep breath through his nose.
"You should stop seeing him."
"Shut up, Ezra." She sounds so small, but even then, Ezra listens to her. He can feel his once oversized ego, deflating like a balloon just poked by a sewing needle.
He knew it would go this way. He looks up at the ceiling, bottom lip in a slight pout as he counts down from ten to calm his thudding heartbeat. He taps his fingers in beats of three against his knee before he stands up, clearing his throat. He doesn't say anything, just digs in his pocket for his phone.
"I'm getting us a cab—"
"I'm not going anywhere with you." He finds her sudden need to be independent annoying, but he pretends to be unfazed as he types in their address.
"We live in the same building, Yoomi. I'm taking you home." The silence makes Ezra look up from his phone, making eye contact with her for what feels like the first time in hours, despite them only being in this room for a maximum of thirty minutes. She looks confused, like a doe would look at the driver of the car that almost hit them. He raises his brows at her, condescension but lost.
"What?"
She looks around, confused, then shakes her head a little bit, her chocolate locks swaying.
"You're not going to fuck me?"
Ezra looks to the side, processing her words, then shaking his head as well.
"No. I never was," He says, a moment a transparencey for both of them. "You're too drunk…And the minute you brought up my fuckass boss, I didn't want to anymore." He uses her being drunk as the primary excuse, even though it was only 25% of the reason why he wasn't fucking Yoomi tonight. He knew deep in his gut he wasn't having sex tonight, especially with Yoomi. Why would he do that to her? Why would he do that to himself? Getting Roan's sloppy seconds made him nauseous. Just the mere thought had the flavor of bile on his tongue.
Ezra finishes ordering the cab. He'll be here in 3 minutes. He nods towards the door.
"Come on. Wipe your face and let's go." He starts without her, leaning on the wall to slide into his sneakers again.
⤿ headcanon memes; comfort character edition!
tw: death, family, religion.
send in a symbol and i’ll answer the corresponding question about my muse!
[ 🧱 ] how would you describe your muses’ morality? what are their core values?
[ 🌎 ] are there any aus you have for your muse? what are they like, and how is your muse different in them?
[ 😱 ] does your muse have any specific fears? where did those fears come from?
[ 🤝 ] how does your muse approach intimacy? are they hesitant, or do they like it? what types of intimacy do they like and dislike? (ex. physical intimacy, sexual intimacy, emotional intimacy, etc.)
[ 👪 ] what is your muse’s relationship with their parents like? was it always this way?
[ 💍 ] does your muse have a “type” of people that they prefer to enter relationships with? is their type generally compatible with them, or does the dynamic tend to be toxic?
[ 🏆 ] is your muse multitalented? what are their hobbies, and why did they pick up these hobbies? if they don’t have hobbies, why don’t they?
[ 🐱 ] does your muse have pets? did they have pets as a child? how do they feel about animals?
[ ❌ ] is there something your muse struggles with that they might never overcome? what is it? why do they have so much trouble with it?
[ ✨ ] what aesthetics or symbols do you reference when writing your muse? are these backed up by canon, if your muse comes from a canon? is there any specific relevance to these choices?
[ 🌱 ] what themes are relevant to your muse?
[ 💀 ] has your muse gone through anything traumatic? if so, how has this trauma affected them?
[ 💛 ] how empathetic is your muse? how compassionate are they? is this something people expect from them, or are people surprised when they find out how compassionate or empathetic they actually are?
[ 👗 ] what is your muse’s fashion sense like? are they able to dress the way they want to? what would they wear in an ideal world?
[ 🔮 ] what is your muse’s relationship with religion and spirituality? were they raised in a certain religion? have they stuck with the same set of spiritual beliefs all their life, or have they changed over time? are they settled in their spirituality now?
[ 🤷♀️ ] how does your muse approach strangers? how does this compare to how they interact with close friends or lovers?
[ 🎵 ] is there a specific song or songs you associate with your muse? why is that?
[ 💸 ] if your muse had no shortage of money, what would they buy?
[ 🐺 ] does your muse like solitude? do they prefer it to being around others? how easily does your muse get lonely?
[ ⚰️ ] what are your muse’s greatest regrets? what would flash before their eyes when they’re on their deathbed?
[ 🧸 ] does your muse keep anything sentimental? if so, what do they keep and why?
[ 🙏 ] what does your muse need? this can be something material or something abstract.
[ 📚 ] what books does your muse have on their bookshelf? what books would they like to have? if your muse isn’t an avid reader, is there anything they collect or might like to collect?
[ 😍 ] does your muse believe in true love? why or why not?
[ 😇 ] what would your muse do if they became a god?
I've randomly gotten this fictional kpop groups thing in my algorithm for some reason and I'm genuinely fascinated by how cool it all is. How does one even get into that? I'd love to but it's very intimidating lmao
so happy tumblr pushes this lil tag omg! because, yeah, it is so cool! i love it here so much! honestly, i got into it by writing a mark lee fanfic like six years ago and the y/n was an idol then she turned into an oc and now we're here! but i've always loved creating ocs for whatever fandom i've been in, like, even before i knew what an oc was i was making them so i think it was just natural i started making oc groups for kpop sdjknfkjsd it's honestly not intimidating at all once you start posting! just do it and keep doing it! don't let notes or anything like that keep you from posting or at least just trying! i bet your ideas are amazing, nons 💗
omg myah youve done it again, constantly raising the bar… the tingting woobin piece… wow like literally speechless your writing is MWAH
oh my god thank you, nonnie!! that piece was very special to me as through tingting i feel i finally got to understand woobin and why he is the way he is. i felt it was an interesting way to go about learning more about this character that's been around for a long time while also learning about a new character. tingting is a very special character to me while woobin is a very complicated, and special, character to me as well. i'm so excited to write more about these boys as i'm working on an ezra piece right now!! thank you so much again, nonnie! <33
the call home - qian tingting
featured 2 of 2 || qian tingting & kang woobin
2871 words
content warnings: this piece heavily alludes to incest and deals with the ramifications of an abusive father-son relationship. mentions of homophobia and a previously toxic relationship. If you are under the age of 18, do not engage with this piece or this blog, and do not engage with this piece if you do not have media literacy, empathy, or if uncomfortable topics scare you.
TingTing has had his own apartment since he was 20.
He’s 25 this year.
He’s thought about buying a house, but this one-bedroom apartment has become his nest he flies back to whenever he needs comfort or rest.
It’s 2 in the morning when he hears the thudding on his front door. TingTing’s eyes open slowly, thinking he was hearing things at first, until it kept going. Thud, thud, thunk! TingTing pushes himself up from the warmth of his mattress, looking around in confusion as one hand rubs at his eye. The thudding stops, but TingTing is already on his feet and shuffling towards the entryway with his arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
One of the reasons he likes having his own place so much is that he controls everything, including the aircon, which is always on and at full blast, making the inside feel like an ice chest instead of a home. It’s his home. It’ll always be his home.
He knows he should check the camera to see who’s there, but his brain is foggy and working at half capacity right now. His nimble fingers untwist the lock, but leave the chain intact just in case it is someone he doesn’t want inside. When he opens the door as far as it can, he almost thinks he’s dreaming when he sees who’s in the hall.
“Woobin?” TingTing calls. He doesn’t look like the Woobin he knew, but TingTing swallowed the pill because his Woobin died a long time ago. The man in the hallway looks tired, is taller, and appears pitiful. By the way his lips are parted slightly and how his eyelids droop, TingTing knows he’s drunk. It makes him sigh, and he looks off to the side to avoid eye contact.
“How’d you get my address?”
“I just wanted to see you,” Blue tells him, voice slow and deep yet dripping with misery. He looks so miserable. “I haven’t talked to you in a long time, Ti.”
TingTing feels bile in his throat, or maybe it's a sob. He can’t tell, but it’s suffocating. TingTing scratches the back of his neck with an awkward clear of his throat, shaking his head.
“You don’t need to be here,” He tells him, returning his gaze back to him, and he swears he looks more pitiable than he did just mere seconds ago. “I can’t help you, Blue.”
“Yeah, you can,” Blue whines, staggering towards the door until his face is just inches from the gap. TingTing inhales sharply at the sudden movement, backing up a step but keeping his hand on the knob. “You were so good to me, Ti.”
“It’s been years, Blue,” TingTing tells him firmly, but his gaze is still soft and kind. Hyun says TingTing just naturally looks kind, but he wishes he didn’t. He wishes strangers didn’t ask him for help, or that people wouldn’t trust him with their troubles. He knows in order for that to happen, he has to stop resorting to kindness out of necessity, but in a world so bleak and cruel, TingTing can’t stop himself from being a beam of light. If he wasn’t, who would be?
It’s such a burden. One he bears, but doesn’t enjoy.
“We’re not kids anymore. I’ll call you a cab–”
“You know my friend died,” Blue interjects, resting his face on the doorframe. TingTing sighs, his full lips forming a tight line. He nods.
“I know he did. I’m sorry.” What else do you say to that? It’s not like what TingTing said mattered to Blue. He would keep talking even if he shut the door. The dim hall light hits Blue’s eyes at the right angle, and he can see there’s a veil of tears blanketing the dark brown hues. Blue takes a deep breath, looking at the ground inside TingTing’s house.
“I think…I should’ve helped him more,” Blue continues, sliding down the door slowly, his weight making the chain jiggle and clack around, which only irritates TingTing. “It’s been so hard for me to…care about men, you know? Do you get it?” TingTing isn’t listening; he’s pressing the door closed enough to undo the chain and open the door wide enough for Blue to tumble in. He can feel a knot in his stomach telling him he’s making a mistake, but he blows out the anxiety in a long blow of air and a shake of his head.
Blue pushes himself to his feet with a grunt, looking at TingTing in shock, but TingTing won’t meet his gaze, his arms crossed across his chest again. They’re at eye level with each other, but there was once a time when TingTing was taller than Blue by just an inch. He remembers that time fondly. He remembers that time with contempt.
“Lie on the couch. I’m getting you water.” TingTing moves to shut the door behind Blue, moving too close to the other for his liking. Blue watches him like a dumb dog waiting to take orders from his owner, but when the door clicks shut, he moves forward suddenly, bumping his chest against TingTing’s. TingTing reacts fast, shoving Blue back just a mere second after they brush against each other.
“No! No,” TingTing shouts firmly, pointing at him while looking him square in the eye. Blue cowers instantly, brows knit with a small whimper as if he had been struck, his arm moving up in defense. “Don’t touch me. You don’t get to do that. Sit on the couch and wait.” And like the beaten dog he is, Blue listens, staggering over to the couch in a crooked line before collapsing into it with his face in the cushions.
TingTing watches him for a moment, making sure he really stays on the couch before turning his back and going into his kitchen. When he knows he’s out of sight, he leans forward until his head is pressed to the cold metal of the fridge, pressing the back of his hand into his mouth and biting down on it hard. His face scrunches up at the pain, eyes shut so tight he can see white bursts behind them. He holds his breath for as long as he can, feeling his face get red and hot until his throat forces a gulp of air out of him.
He straightens with a shaky sigh, blinking quickly as he opens the fridge and grabs a bottle of water, ripping the cap open and taking a swig himself.
“Take it,” TingTing says, extending the bottle out to Blue, who jerks his body to the side when he hears TingTing’s voice. He notices there’s a small smile on his lips when he speaks, which makes his heart race in more ways than one. Blue looks up at TingTing with the most hopeless gaze he’s ever seen. It nearly makes TingTing reach out and stroke his cheek, but he’s not sixteen anymore, and they’re not in love. They haven’t been for a long time.
He drops the water bottle in Blue’s lap and turns away.
“I’m going to bed,” He says, already walking away. “There are blankets on the table. Try and be out—”
“You know, I didn’t want to break up with you.”
Here we go. TingTing sighs, turning back around to face Blue, curling his lips in.
“I know you didn’t.”
“He made me do a lot of things I didn’t want to do.” Blue’s words hang heavy in the air as TingTing stares into his glimmering eyes. He watches as the other’s bottom lip quivers. It’s a sight that nearly makes TingTing tear up himself, he has to tighten his arms across his chest to stop any emotion from over taking him.
Of course, it weighed on him. He was left young and confused when he and Blue were broken up, told it was for the best for their careers, but his career still spun into the dirt while Blue’s rose. There was bitterness, there was sadness, there was nothing. TingTing felt it all and never knew if Blue felt any of it until now.
Blue sniffles, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. TingTing grimaces, reaching for the tissue box on his coffee table, holding it out to the other. “I loved you so much, Ti. He was–He hates when I’m happy with–with guys, you know? He hates it. He hates me,” Blue explains through a tight throat and stuffed nose, making his already deep voice deeper.
“You’re his son. He doesn’t hate you.” TingTing only says that to hopefully make Blue feel better. He knows Jihan hates Blue. Anyone with eyes could see that. The few times TingTing went over to Blue’s house when he lived with his father were some of the most uncomfortable moments of his life. The entire house had a thick blanket of animosity that made him feel as if he was suffocating and being stalked like a doe in the crosshairs, with Jihan always ghosting around, staring at him or Blue when he thought they weren’t looking, peering through the crack of Blue’s never fully shut door. One of the rules the man set for them: Never shut the door. Don’t be too loud. Be respectful. They always followed all three, but it never felt like it mattered because Jihan was always there watching.
“He hates my fucking guts, Tingting. Don’t bullshit me,” Blue dismisses with a shake of his head as he wipes his nose, putting his head in his hands with a sharp inhale. He shuts his eyes tightly like he’s trying to unsee something. It leaves a sinking pit in TingTing’s stomach. Cautiously, he moves closer to Blue, standing in front of him within arm's reach.
Blue doesn’t move to touch him, but he runs his fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots.
“He’s obsessed with me, you know?” Blue jerks his head up to look at TingTing, eyes red and watery. TingTing nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. Blue looks derranged, like a dog that knows he’s got rabies, fighting to control something inside him that he knows he can’t. Instead of foaming at the mouth, tears rapidly pool down his cheeks. “Obsessed with hurting me, obsessed with–with touching me, obsessed with my life, with my boyfrieds, with my job! Everything! He’s obsessed with everything about me! He won’t leave me the fuck alone!” His booming voice makes TingTing flinch slightly, reaching out to place his head on the back of Blue’s head and run his fingers through his hair gently.
The touch, meant to offer comfort, only breaks Blue down. He sobs, covering his face with his heavy palms, pressing the tips of his fingers against his temple so hard the skin turns white. There’s a muffled yell in his palms. TingTing can tell he’s fighting something; he wants to let something out, something is weighing on him in a crushing way.
“He’s why we broke up?” TingTing asks, trying to steer the conversation back to where they started. Blue nods as TingTing runs his fingers through his hair again, gently scratching his scalp.
“You know…I knew he didn’t like me,” TingTing whispers, looking ahead over Blue’s head. “It’s not like I cared. I’m used to stuff like that, you know? I mean I have to be with how I am.”
“You’re so free,” Blue interjects, but TingTing shakes his head. “You’ve always been so…yourself. It–”
“No, no…I’m not. It’s–I don’t want to talk about me, Blue.”
“Please call me Woobin,” He begs, finally reaching to touch TingTing. His hands drop from his face to brush against the other and TingTing’s. “I’m Woobin. I’m not Blue. I don’t want to be Blue. Please.”
“Okay, okay,” Tingting whispers, giving his hands a squeeze and a forced out smile. He still can’t push out the dread in his body when he looks at his first love. It’s like he’s waiting for something to snap, for the switch to flip, for something to go terribly wrong. He knows he can’t shake that feeling until Woobin is asleep or out of his house. It hurts him, but it’s true. Woobin is a ticking time bomb with every word out of his mouth, one second less until detonation.
“Woobin,” TingTing whispers once more, watching him shut his eyes and lean in to rest his head against the other’s stomach. TingTing grimaces at being touched, but lets it happen. He places a hand on his back, patting against his spine as if he were a sleepless infant. “You should get some sleep.”
“I just–I can’t stomach him.”
“You shouldn’t have to.” Just tell him what he wants to hear. He will get tired eventually. TingTing moves his hand from his back to his cheek, entertaining himself with the feeling of another’s skin beneath his palm. It’s been so long since he’s touched another man, especially one he has an inkling of feelings for.
Woobin points to himself, jabbing his finger into his chest.
“He’s evil. He says–He says I’m wrong, that I’m–I’m the fucked one…He’s the fucked one. No one knows what he does to me. No one! And that’s why he’s so admired, like a fucking patron saint or some shit. He’s so wrong. I’m his son! I’m his blood!” The more Woobin rants, the louder and emotional he gets. TingTing can paint the picture himself; he doesn’t need details, and he knows Woobin doesn’t want to give them. A tear slips down TingTing’s cheek as he looks away from Woobin for a moment to collect himself before turning back to the sobbing boy.
“Come on, honey. Get up, get up, we’re going to lay down, come on,” TingTing tells him in the most gentle voice he can muster, pulling Woobin up to his feet and putting his arm over his shoulders to support him.
TingTing’s bed is cold. That’s how he likes it.
He lies Woobin down on it, taking a deep breath through his nose, running his fingers through his hair as he watches the other press his flushed face into the pillow, pulling his knees up to his chest. Small sounds are leaving him, but they’re so muffled he can’t tell if they’re sobs or sniffles. TingTing knows he can’t leave him like this, nor does he want to.
So, he slides into bed on his usual side, pulling the blankets over Woobin’s body, resting them at his shoulders. He lets his hand linger on his bicep for a moment, rubbing soothingly, letting the blanket act as a barrier he wasn’t sure if he needed or not. Woobin’s back is towards him, heaving and stuttering every few beats. Like a magnet, TingTing lets his hand drift to the center of the other’s back, rubbing small circles over his shirt. The fabric wrinkles and catches on his fingers, lifting then dropping back into place. He watches in a trance, mind foggy and numb, feeling as if he’s about to fall back to sleep. He’s forgotten it's the middle of the night. At the reminder, his eyelids begin to droop.
Woobin turns abruptly, leaving them to be face-to-face. TingTing lets his eyes lift to look into his, his lips twitching as if they want to smile, but he doesn’t let them. Instead, he lifts his hand and places it on his cheek. Woobin leans into the touch, round eyes fluttering shut, body relaxed. He places his hands on TingTing’s chest, brutal and sudden, causing the other to inhale sharply. It feels like a shove with no push, but there’s no pull, just a weight keeping him in place. TingTing wraps his slender fingers around his wrist, his other hand stays on the side of his face, pressing in when he feels Woobin’s fingers wrap around the flimsy fabric of his shirt.
He’s not looking into TingTing’s eyes; he’s looking at his lips. It causes a sickening turn in his gut. He doesn’t feel scared or threatened, but sick. He feels sickened by how Woobin looks at him. Desperate, pathetically, practically begging for something that TingTing can’t identify.
“It’s okay,” Tingting tells him softly, running a hand through the other’s hair before his thumb strokes over the center of his forehead. Woobin stills, his eyes trailing up to meet his, blinking slowly. TingTing watches as his lashes brush the top of his cheeks. It causes a fluttery feeling in his chest, and his thumb moves down to swipe at the supple skin of the other’s cheek, making Woobin’s eyes shut peacefully, leaning in to press his face into the center of TingTing’s chest.
TingTing swallows, but his arms wrap around him catuiously, cradling his head as if he’s a precious newborn infant. His cheek rests on Woobin’s head; his hair is soft and silky. He smells like soap. Every nerve in TingTing’s body seems to go numb when he feels his breathing against his chest, evening out slowly. With leisure, Woobin’s arms wrap around his waist, loosely around him, but his hands clench the fabric of his shirt so tightly that TingTing knows he wouldn’t be able to leave without stirring the other.
Though, despite everything telling him otherwise, he doesn’t want to.
ISSAYAH debuted in late 2020 with six members: HYUN, JACOB, TINGTING, GRAYSON, HAJIN, and EZRA wth a bright, almost fruity, concept that had the public instantly hooked.
SONG DOHYUN, LEADER. 1999.
JACOB LEE. 1998.
QIAN TINGTING. 2000.
GRAYSON LEE. 2002.
CHWE "EZRA" HYUNBIN. 2002.
HAN HAJIN. 2003.
Their instant popularity was also boosted by the fact that the Lee brothers were both in the line-up, both being previous produce winners. Jacob Lee would rank second, while Grayson would rank 8th. One is a fan favorite, while the other is controversial yet undeniably talented.
Jacob Lee's entrance into the idol industry was controversial of his own accord. Stepping onto the Produce audition stage, he was stoic and disinterested, but performed one of the most memorable produce auditions of all time. He would perform Blood, Sweat, and Tears by BTS as a solo performance with his own choreography. He proved within less than five minutes on screen that he was as talented as his first-place-winning sister, Chloe Lee.
The problem with Jacob never stemmed from his talent, but from his attitude. Notably, he was not likable during Produce 101. He was rude, talked back to older trainees, talked down to younger ones, and had no friends during his run on the show, but girls and women loved him. He consistently ranked in the top three, dropping to 3rd place only when he forgot to use honorifics with the hip-hop mentor Cheetah during a disagreement. However, he regained his 2nd place position by the finale.
But that drama was nothing compared to what was to come in 2022.
Two years post-debut, ISSAYAH is stronger than ever, kicking ass on the charts and taking the hearts of every girl, woman, and grandma that caught a single note of their music. It was the perfect boy group scenario for MYDOL until the month of June.
June was the month all their groups would promote a summer single that would appear on the yearly MYDOL Summer Album, which would be performed at the MYDOL Family concerts. It was an amazing cash grab that worked every time, except this time. The competition was fierce between ISSAYAH fans, Goodies, and DEEPDIVE fans, Sirens, all foaming at the mouth for the Inkigayo Music Show award during that promotional period. While DeepDive had outcharted ISSAYAH initially, the two would bounce between the number one and number two spots.
In the end, ISSAYAH would take home the Inkigayo trophy, and shit would hit the fan.
While it was common knowledge amongst ISSAYAH fans that Jacob was an asshole, Hyun and Hajin were presented as the golden boy and the sweetheart on camera. What do you mean, they were school bullies?
Screenshots and school reports would surface through the Twitter thread, showing multiple violent reports against Hyun, who was known around his performing arts school as a "short fuse ready to swing on anyone."
Hyun would be cited as being involved in many school fights that would somehow, someway, never result in his suspension, despite the other boy involved always leaving with an injury and Hyun walking out with barely a scratch on him.
While Jacob and Hajin were reported to be "mean and cold" to their classmates, they threw insults at both boys and girls. Kakao screenshots would leak of Hajin calling multiple girls and boys in his grade fat and ugly.
The screenshots implicating Jacob would be just as damning, if not more so, and even more disturbing. In two separate sets of screenshots, he was degrading girls after they rejected his advances. In multiple sets of screenshots, he could also be seen calling other boys, including his brother, ugly and talentless.
Safe to say, it wasn't looking good for the boys, but MYDOL stayed silent for the first few days of controversy, continuing on promotions as if the fandom wasn't on fire and the boys weren't getting shouted at to say anything about the accusations.
Then the kicker. Lim Joohun.
Lim Joohun, a small independent solo artist, would release a heart-wrenching statement on his social media recounting his time at Hanlim and how he was relentlessly bullied by Hyun and Jacob.
"As many of you know, I cannot see out of my left eye due to an injury I had while in high school. I never disclosed how I got this injury since I found it so painful to recount this time in my life, but the silence from the person who did this to me is more painful than I could've ever imagined. So, here I am with my story. I attended Hanlim Multi Art School while training under JYP Entertainment. During my time at the school, I was mercilessly bullied by Song Dohyun. Sometimes, Jacob Lee would be his lap dog and help him, but most of my abuse was at the hands of Dohyun. When I saw he had debuted with a stage name, I felt sick to my stomach. I don't know Hyun, but I know Dohyun. Dohyun was a mean and cruel person who would taunt, harass, and beat me for reasons I still do not know. I will probably never understand why he hated me so much. Was it because I was kind? Was it because I smiled at him on the first day? Was it because of my skills? I wish I could ask him these questions, but he has never entertained my attempts to contact him. It was a Tuesday afternoon, the day he beat me unconscious. It was my turn to clean the classroom after school, a time when Hyun and his friends would always mess with me. I was already scared and anxious, but when he finally came into the class, I felt nothing. We fought, and he won; he always did, but this time, he didn't stop after I hit the ground. He hit me so many times I lost count. I had never been in so much pain. I remember the moment he punched me right in my left eye; it was like a light switch went out, and I was asleep. When I woke up, I was in the hospital with my mother and father by my side. My mother was crying, so I knew whatever happened to me wasn't good, but I wasn't prepared to be told I lost vision in my left eye completely and forever. I was only seventeen. I had so many dreams. After that, I lost all my motivation to do anything. I was dropped as a trainee, I dropped out of school, and a few months later, I attempted to take my own life. I just couldn't understand why this happened to me or why Dohyun would do this to me. It's been years since this happened. I have moved on and forgiven Dohyun despite his never seeking an apology. I did not forgive him for his sake, but for my own. I felt compelled to share my story now that everything is being spread around recently. His fans deserve to know who he was."
This sent MYDOL into full-blown panic. The media instantly turned against ISSAYAH, digging up every piece of evidence they could find to diminish the group even further.
Nearly instantaneously after Joohun's post, Hyun would issue a handwritten apology as well as a video apology. Hajin and Jacob would release their own hand written apologies and video apologies as well, but the spotlight was no longer on them, it was only onto Hyun.
Hyun was officially placed on hiatus by MYDOL just a week after Joohun’s statement went viral. For an entire year, ISSAYAH carried on as a five-member group while Hyun disappeared from stages, variety shows, and promotions altogether.
That year became known in fan circles as Hyun’s apology tour. His first major step was a sit-down video with Joohun himself, filmed in a simple studio with no frills. The two spoke openly: Hyun explained how troubled and unstable his home life had been throughout his school years, how that pain bled into cruelty, and how he carried deep regret for never apologizing sooner. Joohun, who had already forgiven him privately, used the video to forgive him publicly. That moment became both viral and divisive. Some praised Hyun for facing his past directly, while others felt no apology could undo the damage.
From there, Hyun retreated almost entirely from the spotlight, but fans and reporters would quietly spot him throughout the year. He volunteered at food banks, worked with orphanages, and spent time at retirement homes. Unlike a typical PR stunt, these appearances weren’t highly publicized or neatly documented by the company. Instead, they spread online through fan accounts and local news blurbs, slowly reshaping the narrative of who Hyun was trying to become.
Exactly one year later, Hyun dramatically returned to ISSAYAH. At the press conference announcing his comeback, he appeared with his head completely shaved into a buzzcut as if he was enlisting, bowing low before cameras and fans alike. The act was symbolic, a traditional gesture of humility and atonement, and it set the tone for his reintegration into the group.
But the biggest twist didn’t come until months later, when industry insiders began to whisper that the entire leak had been orchestrated by Sirens. Screenshots from private fan group chats eventually surfaced, showing how certain Sirens had stockpiled evidence, testimonies, and rumors about Hyun, Jacob, and Hajin for years, waiting for the perfect time to detonate it. That “perfect time” turned out to be June 2022, right as ISSAYAH was competing head-to-head with DeepDive for summer chart dominance.
It worked. ISSAYAH’s hard-earned image as MYDOL’s golden boy group shattered overnight, and even now, every time ISSAYAH inches close to rivaling DeepDive’s success, Sirens make sure to drag the scandal back into the public eye. Old threads, Joohun’s post, and Hyun’s apology clips resurface like clockwork, ensuring the shadow of that summer never fully disappears.
Though Hyun returned after his year-long hiatus with his head shaved in apology, and though Jacob and Hajin issued their own handwritten letters and video statements, ISSAYAH’s reputation has never fully recovered. The fandom remains divided, with loyalists defending the boys as having grown, while detractors insist they should have never been given a second chance.
To this day, the 2022 ISSAYAH bullying scandal is remembered as the single biggest public controversy in MYDOL Entertainment’s history, bigger than contractual disputes, bigger than lineup changes, bigger even than chart manipulation accusations.
For Goodies, the fallout never really ended. Every ISSAYAH comeback since has been haunted by the ghosts of 2022 Hyun’s bald head, Jacob’s leaked messages, Hajin’s insults, and Joohun’s statement, all waiting to be re-posted whenever the group gets too big for Siren's liking. Sirens work overtime to keep the wounds open, ensuring the scandal never drifts too far from public memory.
With every new performance, every new song, ISSAYAH faces the same question: Will the public ever truly see them as more than the group that caused the biggest scandal MYDOL Entertainment has ever known?
FEEL GOOD! was ISSAYAH's fifth physical single released JUNE 17TH 2025.
FEEL GOOD! was a part of the MYDOL SUMMER COLLECTION, a collection of summer singles from all Mydol Artists released through the month of June.
ISSAYAH has always charted well. They came out of the Mydol womb charting, so it's no surprise that FEEL GOOD! debuted #1 on the Goan Digital Chart and #1 Download Chart for 2 consecutive weeks until DeepDive dropped their summer single, knocking them to #4 and beginning their slow decline on the charts.
Their physical sales would remain untouchable, selling 102,431 copies in the first day and accumulating 351,023 copies within the first week. As of August 4th, FEEL GOOD! has sold 690K+ units.
FEEL GOOD! would go on to win 2 music show awards. One on SBS The Show and one on Inkigayo. It would be the Top 5 most talked-about music releases on Twitter the week of release and would be dubbed “the organic summer hit of 2025” by their fanwar-loving fans.
The FEEL GOOD music video unfolds like the third act of a Y2K summer movie - think Teen Beach Movie, but with a Y2K twist, The Summer I Turned Pretty, minus the weird love triangle, and more giggles. Set on a hazy stretch of coastline, the video follows ISSAYAH’s six members as they spiral into full rom-com chaos over one girl: Klara Blix. She arrives in the first frame wearing heart-shaped sunglasses and a shirt that says “try harder”, stepping off a beach bus as the boys freeze mid-conversation, instantly infatuated.
From there, the MV plays out like a losing game of romantic hot potato. Grayson attempts to gift her a towering cone of cotton candy ice cream that melts before he reaches her. Jacob pens a heartfelt poem, but the ocean breeze carries it away before he can read it. Ezra wins a prize ring from a vending machine, only to give it to the wrong girl. TingTing dances solo on the boardwalk while a nearby dog receives more applause. Hajin attempts to create a slow-motion beach volleyball moment, but ends up hitting himself in the face with the ball. None of it works.
But Hyun doesn’t try. He doesn’t need to. He’s filmed in quiet, precise fragments, sunglasses on, leaning against a convenience store fridge, sipping a bright blue fruity drink like it’s a statement. Midway through the bridge, Klara rounds a corner and almost bumps into him. Neither of them moves. She looks at him. He smirks. She leans in, says something we can’t hear. He doesn't respond, just tilts his head slightly. She kisses him on the cheek. He watches her leave. He's cocky until he's sure she's out of sight, then he pumps his fist in the air like he won a stuffed animal at the fair.
Klara floats through the video like a daydream, her presence casting a spell that the boys never recover from. She laughs with friends, browses convenience store aisles, vanishes, and reappears like the narrative doesn't need to explain her choices. By the final chorus, the members are collapsed in the grass, sunburnt, bruised, and lovesick as Klara walks away down the boardwalk, earbuds in, untouched by the chaos she caused. The screen fades just as Ezra sits up and asks, “Do you think she was into us?”
No one answers.
“FEEL GOOD” debuted at #1 on Circle Digital Chart, holding the spot for a full week before being bumped by DeepDive’s comeback.
The single became ISSAYAH’s highest first-week physical seller with nearly 700,000 units sold.
During their music show win on MCountdown, where TingTing cried during the encore and Hyun said, “This was for the dog in the MV,” referencing the beach dog that appeared in multiple promo materials.
The music video surpassed 10 million views within 48 hours, with fans praising the bright visuals and Klara Blix being the boy's love interest.
Hyun was the “chosen one” in the MV, receiving a kiss on the cheek from Klara. In interviews, he said, “Of course, it was me. Who else was it going to be?”
Ezra’s scene with the vending machine ring became a meme and was captioned: “Me watching him like her post but not mine.”
TingTing’s choreo with the beach dog sparked a viral TikTok trend with over 9 million posts under the hashtag #tingtok.
The group wore silk pastel button-ups, short shorts, and too many necklaces for every stage. Fans dubbed it the “Floridian Uncle” era.
Hyun debuted with platinum-blonde hair and body glitter. Both became trademarks for the era.
Grayson slipped during a live performance in Busan and accidentally took Hajin down with him. They both laughed through the choreo.
Jacob tried to flirt with a fan on live, but accidentally called them by the username of a known anti. It trended for three days.
During a fansign, a fan gave TingTing a plushie of the MV dog. He teared up and said, “This is the best present I've ever received.”
On a Weekly Idol special, Klara called in to surprise the boys. Grayson immediately short-circuited while Hyun just smiled and said, “I knew she’d come back.”
Geni of TACK13 told Jacob during a variety segment, “You’re delusional in a cute way.” He blushed for the rest of the show.
They were featured in a Dazed Korea summer beach editorial, which boosted their brand reputation and marked their first victory over DeepDive since their debut.
As usual, when ISSAYAH is doing well, one of their few past controversies gets brought up. This time, it was the 2023 tour incident, where the group was caught mocking staff off-camera.
Hyun briefly addressed it during an interview, saying, “We’ve grown. We’ve learned. And we’re still learning...publicly, unfortunately.”
Still, public love for ISSAYAH remained strong. They trended #1 on Korean Twitter five times during the era.
The boys crashed a TACK13 live, bringing ice cream and nearly ending the stream by accidentally knocking over the camera.
VENUS’s Baebi posted a story of Hyun holding a sparkler with the caption: “our summer prince.”
DeepDive’s Noah made a surprise appearance at their Busan fanmeet, causing fans to speculate a collab.
Bliss from EMPHASIS was caught mouthing “Hyun’s mine” during a pre-recorded stage, fueling a massive bubble-thread war between GOODIES and ECHOES.
Despite the drama, fans agreed this was one of ISSAYAH’s most unified eras, with all six members shining and showing off their personalities.
TingTing gained over 600,000 followers on Instagram, becoming the most-followed member by the end of the era.
“Feel Good” was included in Spotify Korea’s “Songs of Summer 2025” playlist, alongside tracks by BTS, RIIZE, and VENUS.
The fandom doubled down literally. GOODIES reported record growth, with over 85 official fan events held during the two-month promo period.
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